Wednesday, June 30, 2010

So today marks the big day. That's right. THE DAY. For women the country over, I don't even have to mention what day it is. For men, I probably do. That's right... it's SUPER EDWARD CULLEN SPARKLE FACE DAY!

Dudes the world over just went, "Huh?"

That's right... Today marks the release of Twilight: What the Hell Book Movie are We on Now? [HTML, to the rescue!] in theaters nationwide. I have trouble supporting the world of Harry Potter -- let's face it, they spend 700 pages talking about how they can't talk about Voldemort then the Hogwart's gang fights him at the end of the book only to have the match end in a stalemate, thus perpetuating the next year of magic school and subsequent book(s) in the adventure. I'm sorry. I lost it somewhere during year five and walked away. The thing is, by all accounts, J.K. Rowling is fairly good writer whereas this Stephenie Meyer chick is quite awful. To quote Stephen King:

The real difference [between Rowling and Meyer] is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer, and Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a damn. She's not very good... People are attracted by the stories, by the pace and in the case of Stephenie Meyer, it's very clear that she's writing to a whole generation of girls and opening up kind of a safe joining of love and sex in those books. It's exciting and it's thrilling and it's not particularly threatening because it's not overtly sexual.

In all honesty, I did see the second Twilight film. I was hanging out with Michelle and Brian and Michelle really wanted to see it. And, if you know anything about me, you'll know that I'll watch pretty much any movie you put in front of me. I also own Mega Snake on DVD, so take my opinion on films rather lightly. So, for you unfortunate fellows who will invariably dragged kicking and screaming by your lady to SUPER EDWARD CULLEN SPARKLE FACE DAY, let me give you a quick run down of what has happened so far in the world of teenage vampire lust books:

Edward is a really good-looking, 110 year old vampire who hangs out at high schools. Bella is some chick who goes to high school. Then some guy named Jacob turns into a werewolf. No one makes out. Edward goes to Mexico (or some place). Bella cries for months in her room and goes cliff diving. No one makes out. Edward comes back and looks like a fuckin' Lite Brite in the sunshine. No one makes out. A couple characters go to Italy (or some other place) and fight some other vampires. Then there is a proposal. There. I just saved you four boobless hours of not watching the first two movies.

Here's the thing, though, about SUPER EDWARD CULLEN SPARKLE FACE DAY that I have a real problem with: it makes girls and women the world over think that dudes that look like SUPER EDWARD CULLEN SPARKLE FACE are interested in girls like Bella. You think the best-looking star of a high school wants to date the nerdy chick that listens to indie rock and lives with her dad? Nope. Me neither. Besides... I seem to recall this story coming out a few years ago:

And She's All That has better acting, too. It is this humble blogger's opinion that if your acting is worse than that of Freddie Prinze, Jr., you need to cut that shit out. Immediately.

If I looked like SUPER EDWARD CULLEN SPARKLE FACE, I'd probably have things a bit easier in life. I'd have multiple visible ab muscles instead of this round thing in their place. I'd have mussed, spiky hair that doesn't smell like pizza (note to self: wash hair today). I'd be 6 foot something and not look like a Leprechaun. I'm also confident that I could at least make out with a chick that's better looking than Bella. Hell, I do that now... from time to time. Or at least I'd have you believe that. See, it's all about confidence... And... Hell... Lost my train of thought.

Fellas who are going to see this film this week(end), I salute you. You're much better at being your gal's man than I think I could ever be. Besides... I think I hear Mega Snake calling my name.

You've got to give credit to Stephenie Meyer, though. She knows how to market her writing to the ladies. Maybe I should hang out with her... Get my readership up.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

There's a problem with craigslist. No, not that you can't sell anything on there because you can but the problem lies in that everything on there involves, well, selling. Stay with me on this.

In the great job search of 2010, I've been on every job board. Yes, State of Tennessee, this includes your completely awkward and wholly unnavigable website only to be able to tell my 'employment counselor' that, "Yes, I went on the state's website" and that I won't have to lie about it. But back to craigslist. Some of you may recall, I wrote a missed connection last year [I saved it in my facebook notes for posterity's sake]. I got a flood of emails from people asking if "that really happened" and, yes, it did.

So as a wholly qualified individual sitting in bed watching my Arrested Development DVDs on a... what day is this? Tuesday? morning, I have turned to craigslist again for job searching / entertaining the idea of buying a scooter. It's too bad I'm a capitalist that hates sales, otherwise this job board would be awesome.

About a year and a half ago, I found this blog called "Confessions of a Car Salesman" and if you have an hour or so to kill, I highly suggest reading the whole thing. Now, my car buying experience 4 years ago was much easier: I walked in, test drove the car, told the salesman what price (not monthly payment) I was going to pay and that was that... But the experience documented in "Confessions..." is fairly endemic of all sales professions. Last spring, I went on an interview with a tech company who suggested that the best way to get business was to go through the online yellow pages and start picking out places to sell the service. Being an HR professional and understanding how to read job descriptions and what they really mean, I've LOLed [look, ma! I know how to use interweb speak!] more than a time or two at some of these job descriptions, especially when it comes to the compensation part.

"UNLIMITED CEILING""150K+""NO LIMIT!!!11!"

Who knew that craigslist was such a haven for all of these six figure positions?! How have I missed this all this time?! Man, I'm gonna get right over there and apply immediately! To everything. Be still my heart! Actually, I'll probably just go over there and look at the scooters.

So, craigslist job posters, don't tell me that the job has "UNCAPPED POTENTIAL" when it comes to earnings. That doesn't make me want to apply. That makes me want to go to 3 Crow and get a beer. But it's far too early for that.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Soccer is not the most interesting sport. Zero-zero ties? Phh... Hardly.

My critics will argue that it's "the glorious game". I'll argue that argument. Ties are about as exciting as a full price weeknight at the bar. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare you. So, in order to jazz up the game, I've come up with a few ideas.

#1.) Land mines. Can you imagine how little hooting and hollering and rolling around on the ground like a little crybaby there would be if there was the imminent danger of explosion? I can only imagine that it would all be but eliminated. Besides, when was the last time you saw a hockey player doing that acting after taking a check that didn't involve unconsciousness or losing teeth? Go getchu on some google and let me know what you find. Yeah... that's what I thought.

#2.) Make the nets bigger. This is an easy and obvious suggestion. Some of you might argue for the removal of goalies but since most of these world class athletes aren't ever close to putting the ball near the net, I'd so the goalies are second on this list. If fans want to see THREE goals in a game by one side, we could do both of these things but let's not confuse the South Americans and Europeans too much just yet.

#3.) Halftime shows. This works like Gang Busters here in the States. For example, at the Super Bowl a few months ago, we (The U.S.A., that is) had The Who play. That merited talk on both sports and entertainment shows -- that's free advertising, folks. Also, nothing quite screams "American sports!" quite like a bunch of 60-something dudes from England. I know that sounds like I'm killing my argument but remember how long people were talking about Bruce Springsteen's crotch slide into the camera or the infamous "wardrobe malfunction" of 2004? Yeah... think about that, FIFA.

#4.) More Keira Knightley. She could sell tons of tickets and would instantly cease my complaining. She made Bend it like Beckham tolerable.

#5.) Speaking of Beckham... More of that Posh Spice chick.

#6.) Jetpacks. This would instantly make the game more like The Rocketeer. I fail to see a flaw with this plan at all. I've yet to meet a problem that Jennifer Connelly can't solve.

See? All that, and I haven't even broken a sweat. Just like those dudes jogging on the grass and playing kickball. Okay, some of them do... but only because they look like hippies and don't know how to grow a beard but just that little stubbly looking thing that's so fashionable these days.

So, soccer, get with it. Be progressive. Change the rules. Take my suggestions. Maybe add those land mines.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Hey, who am I and what do I care? I'm just an apparition to poke fun at; sleeping dream to dream and driving state to state so someone with bigger and better aspirations can come and pick up where I left off. Let's just pray their imitation is better than mine

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Jim Joyce just blew the most obvious call in professional sports in the past 17 years -- since Chris Webber's traveling violation in the waning seconds of the NCAA championship came against North Carolina. Armando Galarraga threw the first 28 out perfect game in MLB history tonight.

ESPN won't let me embed the video of the controversial play so I've posted the link instead.

Jim Joyce, I just wanted to let you know that when my Detroit Tigers lost the 2006 World Series, I cried at Red Door East. I sat in complete shock at the bar for about an hour and a half after they lost to the Minnesota Twins in the play-off play-in game last year. I don't get much Tigers coverage here in the south and, damnit, I didn't want it this way. This coming on the heels of the passing of Ernie Harwell; one of the games greatest announcers. We Tigers fans have had it pretty rough the past several years.

I know there are going to be a few apologists (Peter King of Sports Illustrated, I'm looking at you) who say that we should forgive and forget Joyce's blown call but let's look at this from a business perspective for a second. We have to. If Peter King were to somehow come across this blog (let's face it, stranger things have happened) he can't really argue the point that it's because the business of sports that he has a job. It's a fact.

Let's say that it's Saturday afternoon and I'm at the flower shop. Let's say that I've had a really kick ass day of deliveries and I'm just on my game. I've been out to Bellevue, Brentwood, East Nashville and, oh, Vanderbilt's campus. I've made three women cry tears of joy when they receive their arrangement. And, for argument's sake, let's just say the boss comes up to me at says "I've got three more deliveries for you and they're all within walking distance of the shop. you don't need to drive and once they're done, you can go home and eat a burrito." Sounds pretty good, right?

Well, let's say that I take these arrangements and instead of doing my job, I decide that I'm gonna go throw them out in the dumpster on my way to my car so I can go get that burrito. That's the only possible explanation that I can think of as to why Jim Joyce blew that call. He was preoccupied on noms. And I don't write in internet speak very often. Because it's ridiculous, that's why.

You know what else would happen, internetland? I'd probably get in trouble for not, you know, doing my job. I could apologize a hundred times but I'd still get in trouble. And that's the way it should be. If you don't do your job, you get reprimanded. And that's where we are with Jim Joyce right now.

Now, Peter King, who I've never been a fan of, says that we should forgive Joyce and let it go. It's not like the guy ran over my dog (Sammy is a very good boy, by the way) and it's not like I'm going to lose sleep over it. And if I do, I can always make up for it tomorrow 'cause I'm not working. It's not like I have any need to forgive the guy. I just want Joyce to be professionally disciplined for what he did. And maybe shave that mustache. Only a man can have facial hair and I'm not sure his man card should be in good standing anytime soon.

8:00 is my happy time. No singing birds (as they've gotten that out of their system by 5something). No "aroooorooooroooo" of Noel the dog (usually). Usually I'm watching reruns of Futurama. 'Cause there's nothing funnier than that. And I've seen every episode about 14 times so I don't feel bad if I fall asleep before reawaking [I know that's not a word] in a rush to get out the door if I need to.

8:01, however, is something completely different. It is the time when business are allowed to call their customers. So, when 8:01 rolled around this morning, I received a call from an "877" number and, of course, didn't answer. A few thoughts went through my head:"Okay, I'm not behind on any of my bills.""That certainly isn't the phone number for any place that I've applied to recently and if it is, they wouldn't be calling this early about my resume.""Man, this is really a funny show."So I let it go to voice mail. And that voice mail went a little something like this:"HithismessageisforStephenPhillipBohn.ThisisNameGarbledwithExpediaandwehavesomesignificantchangestoyourflightitinerarypleasecallusbackatTelephoneNumberIndescernable."

I know I can speak pretty quickly but this was like AmazingRoboSpeak. Since I have purchased a grand total of one thing in my life through Expedia which is my ticket to and from New Zealand, I knew that this is exactly what it was about. So I went online to find Expedia's dedicated customer service line (it's 404-728-8787, by the way). And wouldn't you know it, it went into a queue. I defy you to find one person who enjoys queues. Well, maybe efficiency managers but they're only concerned with net promoter scores and not customer experience. I can say that with full confidence because I used to do HR at a call center and if you have ever had to wait for a CSR then you probably know what I'm talking about.

And so I waited. And waited. And waited.

A CSR finally got on the line. He informed me that because my layover on my return trip when I'm at LAX is now less than two hours BY ALL OF FIVE MINUTES, I would need to rebook because that's their policy. I am very serious. I told him that my dates are set, I'm traveling with a friend, that I bought my ticket almost 5 months ago and I'm not rebooking anything. Guess who went back on hold while the CSR went to get in touch with American Airlines who initiated the change?

That's right. This dude.

After wandering around the house shirtless and opening my fridge in the hopes that a leftover burrito would magically appear (it didn't) for a while, the CSR came back on the line and said that he was "having trouble getting in touch with his help desk to get the flight changed." I told him that "I don't want my flights changed at all and that I don't think that 5 minutes is going to make all that much of a difference. I don't screw around. I'm an expert traveler." For future reference, that joke will be met with silence by Expedia CSRs.

Back into the queue.

Ten minutes later, my CSR came back on the line: "Good news, Mr. Bohn! I've rebooked your flight... You'll be --""Wait a minute. I just said that I DON'T want my flight rebooked. I don't care about the two hour policy. Can't we just leave it as it is?""Well, Mr. Bohn, the policy is that we have to have two hours between flights when you're arriving from an international destination.""Oh, so I can get my luggage and and go through customs and all that?" I asked."That's right, Mr. Bohn!" he replied."And do you really think that takes two hours? 'Cause I've done it in about 35 minutes everytime I've traveled."

This was met with about 30 seconds of silence.

Then... "Well, like I said, Mr. Bohn, the good news is that I was able to rebook your flight and we'll be sending you through Chicago on your way back to Nashville."No mention of upgrading my seat. No mention of some sort of food or drink voucher. No 'thank you for being so accomodating'.That's not customer service folks.

But the real crime with all of this, is that my flight for Chicago (which is where I'll be connecting once I leave L.A.) leaves with just too short of time to head into L.A. to finally try this In-N-Out Burger that everyone tells me that a cheeseburger connoisseur like myself should try. You wanna talk about all-time crimes? That's one of 'em. Like Crosby scoring the gold medal winning goal. Or like getting dumped by text message. Or like Friends being on the air for ten seasons.

Oh, well. I'm sure I can get me an eye opener beforehand. And, really, that's all I need. A microbrew.

My total phone call lasted over 45 minutes. That's two reruns of Futurama I could have been watching. This is in inauspicious start to my day already.